People the world forgot
by LostHawk
Summary: 17 year old Clint Barton. Seen by those who know what he can do as no more than another killer that needs to be disposed of. But when a certain agent come along to follow out the hit, he see's something else in the kid, Something that makes some life changing decisions for both of them. Rated T for language and later on Themes. No Slash.
1. Maybe its best you leave me alone

**A/N – Lost count how many times I've tried to rewrite this…. I just can't seem to get it right. So im relying on you guys to say if it's good or bad. If it's bad ill rewrite it. I just can't get happy with it you see…**

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**2****nd**** October 2002**

Clint rounded the corner at a full out sprint. He wasn't sure who it was that was following him, but he was damn sure he wasn't going to hang around and see which of the people and organizations that were annoyed at him and wanted him dead it was. Last he heard he was at the top or pretty close to the top of several organizations shit list. And that, was not a good place to be, as it meant you were having a hit ordered on you or had one on going, which was what Clint suspected.

As Clint proceeded down the alley he realised it was a dead end.

"Shit!" Clint tried to keep his shouting quite but in this damp dark alley with the cold night rain bouncing off every surface possible, there was a bit of an echo, and apparently, his follower (or as Clint had dubbed 'him' Stalker) had heard him and was now stood in the mouth of the alley, with a very freaked out Clint at the end searching for a way out. He did not want to be cornered, He was limited on his ways out, so far his only way out was the mouth of the alley where that guy way standing.

Looking up Clint saw a fire escape that was within his jumping reach and was only a few metres in front of him. Obviously the person in front of him had seen his intentions and realised what he was trying to do.

"Stay there!" the mysterious stalker man shouted at Clint, But of course Clint wouldn't listen, since 'stay there' normally meant 'stay still so I can blast your brains out' or 'stay still so I can beat the shit out of you and leave you writhing in pain on the border of death in this alley'. No of course Clint wasn't going to listen. Not one bit.

So Clint ran forward those few metres and jumped up just high enough to grab the lower railing of the fire escape, lifting his legs up so they were resting underneath the fire escapes flooring, he climbed up just enough to get the top railing and moving his feat to be resting between the gaps in the barrier, he climbed over, then up the stairs and out of sight of the mysterious man who had no idea where he was heading. Of course Clint was heading to the rooftops, but the only way up there was via the fire escapes.

* * *

"Fuck." The mysterious man shouted in aggravation, suddenly realising that one Clinton Francis Barton had gotten away from them, once again. He had been tailing this kid for months, the kid was just too good to get within shot distance.

* * *

Proceeding across the roof at full sprint Clint got the far side of it and only head the rain hitting the roof, good that man wasn't following him. Probably couldn't get up.

Seeing that the next roof was only a couple metres across from his current roof, Clint decided to try to jump across the gap, in normal weather, he would have been able to make the jump easily, just the rain and now wind, was not on his side so made getting the momentum that much harder.

Walking back far enough so he would have a big enough run up, Clint turned and went at full sprint towards the gap, when he reached the edge he pushed off as hard as he could to get the strongest jump he could, But unluckily enough for Clint, he missed the ledge by a fraction of a centimetre, Luckily though, he managed to grab the ledge with his hand but the ledge was oily and slippery from the rain and other stuff Clint really didn't want to think about that were where his hands were making it that much harder to grip for much longer. And only a matter of seconds later did Clint's fingers give way from the ledge that left him falling.

As he neared the bottom of the 3 story building (luckily it wasn't that high of a building) Clint found himself lying in a lovely dumpster filled with all sorts of trash that Clint would rather not think about.

As Clint was hauling himself out of the bin he heard footsteps approaching the mouth of this alley (why was it always alleys when he was in a bad situation?!), Throwing himself out the side on the dumpster he landed on his back with a barely audible grunt, Clint stayed along the side of the dumpster facing the back of the alley for a few minutes before he was certain that the footsteps had faded away and the man had left.

Luckily for Clint his apartment wasn't that far from his current bearings, so making sure all along the way that no one was following him Clint hurried back to his apartment, despite how shabby and crappy it was, he still called it home, no matter how much damp there was in the walls, and that the heating didn't really work most of the year round (only really in summer did it work) and that his fridge was basically empty all the time (a pot of who knows how old pasta and a bottle of water all that was filling it currently) He still referred to it as his home as it was the only place he had to stay really, well except for when he was in another part of the country or another country entirely doing hits for other people for next to no money…

But little did Clint know that he was in fact tailed back to his apartment just that the mysterious man was one step ahead of him and still managed to find his way here.

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Peeling off his soaked clothing and switching into his only other outfit really that wasn't covered in holes, Clint grabbed the bottle of water from the fridge and downed most of it, only leaving some for later until he could fill it up again since he didn't believe that this buildings water was drinkable and would give you some deadly horrible disease if you drank it.

Rubbing his hand through his hair, he heavily sighed remembering the past few weeks. For the past few weeks this man (or so he assumed man) had been following him, and Clint knew what the guy wanted, he didn't want to talk, he didn't want to just say hi, no, this man wanted Clint dead, Clint knew he was to far gone from being saved and turning his life back around, he knew that the only way out for him was death, but he just couldn't bring it to himself to be killed.

What if this man was just messing with him? What if he didn't even want him dead or talk to him or anything he was just a creepy man that was following him for a laugh or a dare and saw how clint reacted so kept going as he found it funny? What if this whole chase was staged and it was to get Clint into a trap? What if….

"Focus Barton!" Clint barked at himself. "Ugh. Im going insane. You're just another person the world forgot! People only want you dead. Yep deffo insane… im talking to my self…."

Looking out his window Clint noticed someone on the phone, now to most people this would just be normal, but the man's body language was giving him away. He was obviously in a important conversation just but the way he was standing, it was as if the person he was talking to was in front of him, then he started shouting quietly down the phone at the person he was speaking to, letting his anger be shown but careful enough to not let everyone in the surrounding area hear. Then there was the obvious that tipped Clint of entirely, he was standing in the shadows trying to keep out of sight of onlookers, and with seeing that Clint knew his stalker (and yes he was going to call him that as that is what he was at least in his mind) had followed him back to his 'home' and knew where he lived.

After that moment Clint knew he wasn't safe, well he knew he was never safe, nowhere is safe especially around people you don't trust, and for Clint that was everyone in the world that he didn't trust, thus, nowhere was safe for him.

Grabbing a bag and shoving his only other set of clothes into it (despite them still being wet, you could always do with spares) and his other meagre belongings, he headed to the door stopping briefly to stare at his bow and arrows, deciding it would make him stand out and not allow him to be kept unseen he left it where it was leaning against the wall near the door, he would come back when it was safer for the bow and his blood stained arrows. He couldn't risk it, he needed to get away. And fast.

Bolting out fo his door and through the door that went through to the stairs, he slid down the railing of the stairs down to the bottom floor, if he remembered correctly the man was away from the pavement in the shadows of the trees next to the building on the right, so Clint chose to go left out of the building, and keep away and put as much distance between him and this man, whoever he was, Clint had a bad feeling about him.

Once he was far enough away from the apartment complex, Clint dipped into the forest, and was consumed by the Shadows, hiding him from any ones view as he made his way through the run down town to the nearest way out of there.

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**A/N- Yes no? Any way I have already started chapter 2 and you get to know who this man is maybe then depending which route I take, but your most likely know who he is by now right? And what a busy day Clint had ay? Being chased through street by a 'stalker' (sorry I had to use that word I couldn't resist)  
Until next time!**

**~ LostHawk**


	2. All the wants, All the needs

**A/N – And here is chapter 2! OMG GUYS IM SOOO SORRY I TOOK FOREVER TO UPDATE! I started writing this when I finished chapter 1 but then I had to pack my house up, as were moving and that got in the way of this, then the place were staying at till we move (3****rd**** October!) has no Wi-Fi…. Or 3g so I can't put hotspot on from my phone to upload from and yeah… so this is long over due! Sooo! I'm going to treat you guys to 2 chapters in 2 days, I hope. If the internet decides to play ball and let me upload for once… *hint hint internet to work* J is that a good enough sorry? And I'm British… so if any states and stuff are off I mega apologize it's out of my area: P**

** also I realised that I didn't say what time the last chapter was set at during the day, it is in the night so about 10/11pm at night and this chapter is about 3am (this is a fan fiction so weird stuff and things that wouldn't normally be running at that time are happening. **

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**3****rd**** October 2002 (early morning)**

After spending the past 3 and a half hours, getting out of the area of New York City, Clint was greeted with the glorious sight of a very run down, but still in use, train station, seeing that is was just the drunk, people that didn't want to be seen and other shifty characters like him that's were there, he decided it was a good place to get across and into Pennsylvania, since after walking and running for a while he was onto the very outskirts of new York in Port Jervis, but needed to put more of a gap between him and the stalker that was yet to be named.

Seeing that a train was just coming to a halt, after waiting a few minutes, Clint walked onto the platform, acting casual, but not overly casual, Slidding through the doors of the train before it pulled away from the station, walking towards the back of the train and sitting with his back to the wall, keeping his eyes on both the surroundings inside the train and the surroundings outside.

After about 35 minutes on the train, the conductor started making his rounds of checking tickets or collecting money from people, realising his pockets were empty (as always) and he didn't have a ticket Clint decided where ever the next stop was, it was going to be his, Luckily the next stop was only about 2 minutes away. Clint went into the toilets and waited until he heard the conductor walk past and through the doors into the next carriage before emerging just before the train came to a halt, deciding it was time to get off as this stop was rather busy, the conductor was sure to check tickets again, he jumped of the train with his bag in his hand, putting one of the straps of his bag over a shoulder, Clint sped up his walk, he wasn't as far into Pennsylvania as he would of liked but he could make up ground on foot, Looking at the sign that he saw, he saw that that he was in a very populated part of Pennsylvania, deciding that the population was good and bad, good in the way that he would have a lot of cover of people, but bad because the stalker could hide as well, he decided he would find a motel to sleep in tonight, well, stay in, Clint highly doubted he would get any good sleep at all in an unfamiliar place, especially when he was on edge like he was.

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After about 25 minutes of walking Clint managed to find a little motel, it wasn't very good looking, the walls were a sort of moldy brown from the wood rotting and the paint chipping off, the window panes clearly were falling off, but it looked cheap, and it looked like he could go unnoticed easily here.

Sliding in easily through the door that was barely hanging onto its hinges, He spotted an elderly man stood behind the desk looking down at what appeared to be a tattered old book resting on the dirty desk, his hair was greasy beyond belief, his glasses were broken at the nose and he didn't look the cleanest person in the world, but, it was someone who could give him a key to a room.

Walking casually up to the, as he guessed, reception desk, he explained to the man he would be paying for the room upon his departure the following later morning, and just like that the 'manager' as he assumed slid him a key that looked like it should work…

"Thanks." And with that Clint was off up the corridor which he assumed his room would be on.

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After a few minutes of searching up 1 flight of stairs, along a dirty balcony style corridor, and past several rooms that made him realise that this place really was never looked after, He arrived at room 128, His room.

All he had to hope was that the stalker hadn't caught onto him and followed him to Philadelphia via Port Jervis, if he had then…. Clint may as well have just stuck the bounty price on his head and see who shot him first….

Throwing his jacket onto the tatty chair provided, Clint moved over to the bathroom and looked at his head 'injury', that he had received in his moment of 'of course ill make it' when he failed at the whole jump from roof to roof of buildings, there, seeing it was fine, he let his hair flop back onto of it. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Clint heavily sighed, how had he even got onto this road?! Killing people, running… Constantly from his death, being on god knows how many people and organizations shit lists…

"Fucking fuckity fuck fuckers fuck balls." Clint groaned "Why couldn't I have just stayed where I was 10 years ago and not gotten into this bloody mess!"

The truth was, when your parents died when you were 6, and you grew up in a circus after running from the orphanage, your life was bound to go down one shitty road or another. It just so happened the road Clint's life went down involved a lot more crap in 16 years that an average human has had in their whole life...

Scrubbing his hands across his face in anger, Clint walked over to the bed and promptly collapsed on top of it, rolling over so he wasn't lying on his hands but rather on his back, Clint realised hadn't actually slept in several days, and yet, no matter how much sleep wanted him to allow It to come, he knew he couldn't let sleep claim him, in the fear that the stalker may find him and if Clint was asleep he may take longer to react and in a fight, every second was precious, miss one second and you could lose your life.

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After a few hours of pacing the room, groaning, talking to himself, and collapsing back on the bed, sleep finally over ruled the signals from his brain to not fall asleep, but of course this wouldn't be a good sleep. No. Of course not, because when you're not comfortable with the current situation and have a creepy stalker dude following your every move with most likely a whole army of even more pissed off people behind him, then of course sleep wouldn't be nice, it would be torture for your own should and mind delivered by none other than yourself, filled with your darkest and most treacherous memory's, memory's your would have loved to have forgotten long ago and would give anything to pray they just none other than figments of your imagination, not real events that had happened, the sort of events that to average people would be un comprehendible as anything that a human would do to another but, this is Clint Barton, and everything that he does and happens to him is out of the ordinary and the normal for him, is the Unthinkable for another normal human that lives the cushy pillow life with food on their tables and money in their pockets and fresh clothes on their backs, not starved for days, not a dollar to his name and bloody, dirty, grimy clothes Clint Barton. No. Of course tonight's sleep would bring back all those terrors he longed to forget and never see again, but not only would they be memories of how things could have been and what he never had, no.

They would also be memories of the Red in his ledger, the innocents he had killed just for a bit of money that was always spent so fast he never even saw it.

Because after all, when you're just an orphaned carnie with no education life is bound to be mean to you and the roads you go down.

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** A/N – So I'm not sure where that end to this chapter came from…. It just sort of wrote it self, one minute I was typing normality, the next that comes out… hmm. So maybe a double choca mocha and mushroom and chicken pot noodle while writing this chapter does something to my brain eh?**

**But tomorrow as I am promising I will be uploading Chapter 3 **

**Want to know what will make me post chapters even faster?**

**Reviews ;)**

**Till TOMORROW!**

**~ LostHawk**

**Oh and AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D. IT WAS AMAZING! And yes in in England and yes I watched it…. I have my ways :P I just couldn't hold till Thursday :P **

**UNTIL TOMORROW!**


	3. A Falling Star, Least i fall alone

**A/N – Well I did tell ya I would be updating ;) and I know the chapters are short right now, they will get longer soon, just got to wait a bit, (Till the good stuff happens) and I'm sorry last chapter sucked, but I am so eager to get to the part I want to of this story (the whole reason I'm writing this) so when I am at and past that bit I swear the chapters will be A LOT longer…. **

**Oh and Italics means that it is the past (memory's or flashbacks etc. etc. etcetera) **

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_17__th__ July 1998_

_"Should 'a known better little bro. shouldn't a gone shoving your nose into other people business." Barney sneered at Clint lying on the ground battered at bruised, Blood trickling from his nose and split lip._

_"Barney you were stealing from Carson! You can't do that! It's wrong! What did Carson do to you?" Clint wheezed, staring up to his older brother towering over him, the fair stinging the cuts on his face as the droplets of rain landed on them._

_"He aint paying us enough to get what we need, Greedy bastard got nearly 200 bucks here, Not sharing it out to those who actually do just rather than sit on their lazy asses all day pretending to do stuff when he is really just havin' a fag." Barney said spitting on the floor to his right after finishing it._

_"Bu..." Clint attempted to say something but was cut off briskly by Barney _

_"But nothing! Either you join us and help us get more money and stuff and leave with us, or" Out of who knows where a Knife was produced and Barney began twirling it in his hands, "This knife won't be in my hand for much longer" Barney ended with a devilish sneer on his face, as if trying to emphasise his point and what he would do if Clint didn't obey. _

_Of course Clint would obey, I mean, of course he was loyal to his brother and listened to everything and did everything he was told to, he was a good little boy like that you see._

_"Barney! I can't do this with you! What you're doing is wrong! I'm not helping you, your turning into him with all this evil you're doing! You're stealing and drinking and smoking, just like HIM!" Clint Cried staring up at his brother, pleading looks in his eyes, begging his brother to stop._

_Of course Clint wouldn't Obey, I mean Of course he knew what barney was doing was wrong and would not listen or do anything he was told to did, He wasn't a good little boy like that you see, Clint realised right then, Any one you care for would just turn on you, Nobody could be let close and trusted to any degree._

_"Have it your way pest" Barney devilishly said before he thrust the knife forward and into Clint's abdomen, and with that Barney turned and left, leaving his brother bleeding out at the side of a road in the pouring rain in a ditch._

_What Barney didn't see was the look of betrayal that was in Clint's eyes as he clutched his side and curled in on himself, holding with his other free hand the knife protruding out of his abdomen. _

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With a start Clint jerked up from his curled up position in his bed, clutching his side and an imaginary knife, his skin was coated in a sheen of sweat, that particular nightmare was one that struck home hard. The night he realized his brother really didn't like let alone love him. Heck, he didn't even tolerate him, so much so, he actually had to go stab his own brother to get him to stop being a 'pest'.

"Knew I wouldn't get a decent few hours of sleep." Rolling over so he could see the clock on the creaky bedside table, realizing it was only 4:22am and assuming it was right, Clint got up and went into the bath room to wash himself of the layer of sweat that had accumulated on him body from that particular memory.

10 minutes later Clint stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel on the makeshift towel rail that was there, despite the shower being stuck between Cold and Luke warm, it did its job in getting the sweat off of him and letting his clean himself overall.

Using the towel to dry his body and then his hair, Clint picked up his clothes from the floor and walked into the room and looked through his bag where he had abandoned it near the door a few hours prior, Pulling out the clothes that the other day were soaked through, realizing they were still slightly damp but not horribly, he pulled on his other pair of boxers, then his tatty sorry excuse for socks that were covered in stains, holes, and patches where there fabric was rubbing away. Grabbing his grey T-shirt he slid it on over his head, then grabbed his black sweat pants and shoved them on with more force than was strictly necessary. Looking around the room, Clint sighted his trainers were near the bathroom, 'When had I put them there?' Clint thought, eh never mind at least they weren't lost right? Grabbing his trainers, he shoved them on his feet, shoving his other clothes into his bag he slung his bag off his back.

Opening the overly creaky door Clint made sure to shut it quietly since it had an overly large obsession with making as much noise as it was possible when it was best if it was quite especially when he needed to leave without being heard nor seen… Since he was only on the 2nd floor, Clint jumped over the barrier landing on the other side, feet braced between the gaps, turning his head over his shoulder he saw he had a clear shot at a jump down, turning the rest of his body around on the barrier, pushing off the barrier he bent his knees as they came into contact with the ground, then tucked his entire body into a roll to allow the rest of his momentum to wear off, coming up from the roll onto his feet, he took off at a brisk walk, nobody had seen him, well as far as he was aware off, so there was no need to worry at this given moment.

* * *

Sensing his phone vibrating next to him, the man rolled onto his side, no this bed was not comfy so being awoken at 4:10am was not that much of an issue since he wasn't even in that great of a sleep anyway. Grabbing the phone off the table and seeing who it was calling, he hit the answer button and answered with a sharp "Sir?"

"Coulson, judging by what you told me yesterday about this kid's skill, I have a new proposition for you." The man ended with a light chuckle at the end.

"And what is this proposition sir?" Coulson questioned, what was this man playing at?

"Bring him in" and with that the man cut the phone of leaving Coulson sputtering down the phone, Bring him in?! The kid was a trained killer! He would try murderer half of his colleagues before he even got through the front doors!

"Fury. What are you playing at?" Coulson questioned into thin air as if his boss was really there in the room with him…

Deciding he neither was going to get more rest, Coulson went and slipped on one of his favourite suits, a grey suit with white shirt and a red tie, all tied together with dress shoes. Picking up his briefcase that seemed to have no end to what could fit inside it, he put his sweats and t-shirt inside it, and pulled out his tooth brush, since he had only showered 3 hours previous, he didn't see reason in putting his body through the torture of the cold showers again…

After he had finished getting ready, he put his stuff away and stowed his phone away in his pocket, picking up the keys to the room and picking up his case on the way to the door, he opened the door, closing it behind him and locking it, Walking down the corridor and down the stairs, he dropped the keys back of at the reception and threw a few bills onto the desk with them as payment, as he walked out of the front door he saw someone land on the floor below the balcony style corridor, after a few moments he caught wind of who it was that was there, luckily for him, It was none other than the one Clinton Francis Barton he had been tracking, at least now he had seen him so could follow him from here to try corner him again, just hopefully this time no ladders he could jump up…. Hopefully he could get close enough this time, only difference this time was that he had a proposition to make though... Why did fury think a killer could be turned into an Agent! He was mad! That's why.

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he waited a few moments before the target had walked out of the lot that the cheap crappy (almost derelict) motel had been situated on, then once he had left the lot, Coulson began his pursuit, brief case in one hand, other hand holding his phone that had now managed to find its way from his pocket into his hand.

His last thought before he began his pursuit of Barton was 'Well this outta be fun…' and with that, Coulson walked out of the lot into the dimly lit streets.

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**A/N – I soooo wanted to do this as a huge chapter and begin the big chapters but, I decided ill hold the action for a chapter ;) so next chapter will be finally some decent action (or so I hope!) **

**Sorry took a few extra hours to upload, one of my horses decided it was time to injure herself…. So had to get vet out… eugh…. Hello bills….**

**And yeah, so next update will hopefully be tomorrow but if not tomorrow maybe Saturday or latest Monday… I don't have internet where I am staying but yes… Monday will probs be last update till the Friday of that week (7****th**** October)**

**Let me know what you think J and I decided to reveal stalker now as people had guessed it and I was getting muddled up a lot when I was saying "Stalker". Hehe.**

**~ LostHawk**

oh and remember REVIEW! FOLLOW! & FAVORITE!


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